New Release: My Lord Beast by Anna Volk!


Book Blurb:

Celeste is a low born serf working in her Lord’s Castle. She is physically and mentally abused by her Lord’s aunts. She dreams only of living peacefully with Sebastian. Sebastian is Lord of Castle Kilskeagh. He rules his Clan with honor but he can never be happy, his love for Celeste can never be returned. His passion flares brightly but with it comes the Beast, for he is cursed to never find true love.

The three witches of Kilskeagh have made sure that the line will die with Sebastian for each time that he feels pleasure, he is cursed to turn into a Beast. Never will another male rule Castle Kilskeagh for the witches have made sure that someday their daughters will have that which should have been theirs.


Celeste walked carefully around the Laird’s table. Her head bowed, she watched her feet as she shuffled across the room. The men talked loudly, belching and laughing as they broke their morning fast. Margaret stood at Sebastian’s right shoulder as he sat at the head of the table. “Get moving you lazy serf.” She spat the words with hatred. No one spoke a word and all laughter stopped as the men waited to see what Margaret would do to the young lass whom was always the brunt of her wrath.

“Leave off, Aunt.” Sebastian raised his hand palm out. “The Lass is completing her assigned chores.”

“Do you show favor to this serf over your own flesh and blood?” she seethed.

“I have more important things to do than worry about petty scuffles between you and the women who work in this castle.” Sebastian pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “If you’ve finished your meal, you have duties to perform.” He dismissed the men and watched worriedly to see what his aunt would do.

A pitiful cry came from the corner. Celeste walked slowly toward the sound. A castle dog had given birth some weeks before and she was anxious to get a look at the pups now that their eyes would be open. She squatted down as to not startle the little family. Something was not right, the cry was weak. She wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant odor.

“What are you doing there?” Margaret grabbed Celeste’s shoulder where she knelt over the bitch dog and her litter of pups.

“Poor wee one.” Celeste whispered. She laid her hand gently on the mother dog whose body was cold and lifeless, only one small body showed any sign of life. The Irish wolfhound pup struggled gallantly to live where as his litter mates had failed. She cradled the small body close to her bosom.

“Give the cur to me.” Margaret grabbed for the pup. “The bitch died yesterday, this one has not had the sense to follow the rest of the litter. I’ll just slam it against the stones there and we’ll hear no more of its pitiful cries.”

“Nay! You cannot have him.” Celeste turned her back on the mad woman. She would pay dearly for this small act of defiance but could not let the small warrior be harmed.

The flat of Margaret’s hand caught her soundly on the cheek. Her scar stood out vibrantly against the mark now left by the witch’s hand. “You forget yourself.” Margaret snarled.

“Enough!” Sebastian’s fist slammed against the table. “Leave off!!” He stomped angrily across the floor. The rushes crackled beneath his feet.

“Lass, take the pup and leave. Your duties are finished for the day.” He showed no other sign of the turmoil he was going through on seeing his lady treated so cruelly, but he must not alert anyone of his true feelings for his beautiful Celeste.

“Yes, M’Lord.” Celeste curtsied and bobbed her head. She never raised her eyes to look at either Sebastian or the Witch Margaret. Slowly, she turned and made a wide arc around the table and out the castle doors.

“You show much affection for such a low born bitch, nephew. Have you forgotten the curse? Or maybe the Clan whore cares not if she sleeps with dogs. I should rid us all of the problem before she breeds more of the same.” Margaret sneered.

Sebastian grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away. He stepped closer and looked down on her from his massive height. “Do you forget whom you are talking with, Aunt? I am laird here and curse or no curse, neither you nor your witch sisters will rule me or mine. The lass means nothing more to me than any other member of the clan. I protect what is mine.” The lie tasted bitter on his lips, but if anyone guessed his true feelings for Celeste, he feared for her safety.

Margaret jerked her arm from his fierce grip. “Never treat me thusly. Forget you the power that I wield and the pain I can inflict without effort?” She turned and walked toward the small room located behind the buttery. The sisters must be told of the rebellion taking place in their home. But first she had better tend to important matters; must not cause suspicion. She stopped and turned. “I’m sorry, nephew, for speaking to you thusly. I look out only for your welfare. You must be ever vigilant of the curse and never forget the evil it may cause. I am here to serve you and I hope to one day free you so that you may live happily. But until that time arises, you must remember what you are.” She turned her head so no one could see her evil smile as she passed through the buttery.

“I’ll never forget,” he whispered. “I’m living the hell of it daily.” He glanced toward the castle doors. Celeste was safe for now but her rebellion was sure to cost her. He shuddered to think of the pain his sweet lass was sure to go through because the aunts would not let this slight go unpunished. He must be vigilant to protect his love.

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He kissed her again. He kissed her and reason fled, storming away from Lela on an unreasoning tide. She wrapped one hand around the back of his head, holding a hank of his down-soft The lonian hair. Her traitorous hand twined in it, giving her a momentary illusion that she had some control over what was happening, but illusion was all it was.
He let his weight down carefully upon her, chest pressing her breasts, hip against hip, legs twined with hers so that she felt points of fire along her entire body. Everywhere he touched her seemed hot, so hot, and his kiss was wanton and demanding. Men had kissed her that way before and she had been repulsed. Caius kissed her that way and she moaned low in the back of her throat and opened her mouth. His erection was heavy and pressed her belly.

At last he raised his face from hers and his lips sought the place near the hollow of her shoulder that made her shudder when he nipped gently and then soothed the bite with his tongue. Unthinking, she let her hand drift to the back of his neck. The other was trapped between their bodies in a position where she might try to push him away, but she knew she wouldn’t.

“Caius, truly, I can’t,” she protested, and missed his smile in the dark. She had used his name—a very telling thing.

“You needn’t,” he said. “Just let me touch you.”

Touch her. It sounded innocent enough…it was anything but innocent. He shifted slightly—so slightly—and touched the tip of her breast with the tip of his tongue. She gasped and her back arched, beyond her control, and he slid an arm behind the small of her back as quickly as thought and lifted her. Lifted her strongly, possessively, and without the slightest protest from her. He took her nipple into his mouth, suckling deeply, and she cried out.

Her breasts ached and throbbed deliciously—a wonderful torment that couldn’t be soothed. Holding her, he let his kisses rain down her body, finding every sensitive spot while she lay helpless in his embrace. Eventually she simply couldn’t restrain herself any longer and pressed into his kisses, panting in distress.

“I don’t even like you,” she said plaintively.

She felt the explosion of his breath against her skin. He was beside himself with mirth, shaking in her arms, laughing so hard that a reluctant grin quirked the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, Lela,” he moaned, pausing in his seduction. “I don’t think liking has anything to do with this.”

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